


Barricade

by Grimmy88



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Anal Sex, Bite marks, Blood and Gore, Canon-Typical Violence, Come Marking, Come Shot, Coming Untouched, Hormones, Knotting, Lickers, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mildly Dubious Consent, Prostate Milking, Rimming, Stalking, Violence, Zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:27:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27753808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grimmy88/pseuds/Grimmy88
Summary: For @LadyShezkasTea on Twitter.Request: Mr. X/Leon, A/B/OThe horrors awaiting Leon in the RPD trigger a stress heat. While short, they are notoriously fierce and the rookie has no choice but to barricade himself in the Night-Duty room and hope he can sweat it out. Of course, barricades aren't much use against an alpha who can single-handedly lift a helicopter.
Relationships: Leon S. Kennedy & Mr. X | Tyrant T-00, Leon S. Kennedy/Mr. X | Tyrant T-00
Comments: 28
Kudos: 397





	Barricade

**Author's Note:**

> I have taken liberties with the game in order to make aspects of the story more realistic as well as flow better for readers. For example, I added in a few extra Lickers, signs of Claire having been through the station, etc.
> 
> I've chosen the Leon B scenario. Longtime fans who know their RE side games will also get a little easter egg concerning everyone's favorite Tyrant.
> 
> Enjoy!

To say that Leon was panicked was a bit of a given. He’d been panicked since the gas station, since speeding into a city of decaying creatures in search of hope, since finding none in the not-silent-enough halls of the Raccoon City Police Department. What he had found was more zombies, and worse besides.

There hadn’t been anyone to help him nor for him to help.

Except Claire, but after a helicopter explosion had forced them to go their separate ways, he hadn’t been able to catch up to her. No matter where he went in the station, he seemed to find only traces of her: some boarded windows, a few downed zombies, and a couple burnt corpses of those tongue monsters—Lickers, one note had called them. She hadn’t killed all of them, most likely to conserve her ammo—which he was impressed to see belonged to a grenade launcher.

She’d probably figured, as he’d learned, that so long as you quieted your breath and step, you could make it into another hallway for temporary safety. He’d been lucky he’d been on his guard and practically tiptoeing when he’d first entered the west hallway. He’d been unable to comprehend the creature he saw on the ceiling, even more so when it had not attacked on sight like the zombies he’d encountered so far. It was shock that had carried him quietly down the hall, the thing clicking after him on those horrendous claws.

After that, well, after that things had been almost too surreal to believe he was walking around in reality. A bloody journal and some documents had given him a clue as to what he needed to do to get out of the station. Like some sort of demented scavenger hunt, he’d had to go and find medallions to complete that task.

_Medallions._

He’d known the station had been an art museum at one point, but placing hidden coins and random jewels into slots to open up secret passages and boxes? He hadn’t known he would’ve been working in a _Hardy Boys_ book. And of all the things to receive, the jewelry box had gifted him a STARS badge. He couldn’t fathom why someone’s badge would be in such place, nor why it had the ability to turn into a computer dongle.

Though maybe he should’ve stopped questioning anything once he’d collected a key shaped like a Spade.

Truthfully, it was hard to do that. The more puzzles he had to solve, the constant, shuffling zombies he had to avoid, and the threat of death at every corner was making his mind slip further and further away from logic. He knew that was a dangerous thing. He’d need both his wits and adrenaline to get through the nightmare of a zombie apocalypse alive. But knowing that and being able to _do_ anything about his slippage in lucidity were two different things.

And as he stumbled into the STARS office to collect what he could, it felt like the sweat dripping down the sides of his face and the back of his neck were his coherent thoughts, sluicing away.

He tried to recollect them by focusing on the mundane things littering the walls and desks – a picture frame here, a poster there. This was a place that had housed the men and women he’d been expecting to admire. Now it seemed like it only housed their shadows.

Among the things he collected were a battery for a detonator he’d found earlier and a Lightning Hawk magnum, by way of the USB-badge. He’d reverted it back into the shape he’d originally found it as afterward and tucked it away. He’d quickly learned in this topsy-turvy, pseudo-reality to keep every item he’d found somewhere on his person. He’d even had to tuck the key he’d found _into_ his shirt so he could keep his pockets open for other supplies.

Before he made to leave, he found himself sitting in one of the seats and staring at the black screen of a computer. He could make out his reflection within it, and he looked as he’d suspected: fatigued and tormented by things humans weren’t meant to see. Things that weren’t meant to _exist_.

The hair at his nape was damp and there was a flush high in his cheekbones, neither of which he could ignore. Any other omega would have chalked it up to adrenaline, to the panic lacing its way through their body. Any other omega would stew in that denial. Leon wasn’t that omega. Leon couldn’t afford to be.

He was slipping, steadily and surely, into a stress-induced heat. And how could he not? He may have never had one before, but every blood-soaked corridor, every body-laden room, every hiss and chase, were making his heart try to slam its way out of his ribcage. Everything he’d seen was so unnatural, so traumatizing, that of course his body would react to it.

He was a fool for thinking he could push his medication off until closer to his heat. Even though there had been no way he could have known he’d be driving into a horror movie that night. He’d always been able to regulate himself before and had never wanted to rely on too much medication because of it. He especially hadn’t wanted to be on one of the daily medications for fear of his new colleagues finding out.

Legally, the force couldn’t ask. He doubted it even occurred to them _to_ ask. Very few omegas wanted to be cops or firefighters or commit to similar workplaces where they’d face prejudice if found out. But Leon had always wanted to help people. He’d always wanted to make, at least a small part of the world, a better place.

And because of that he’d ignored the warnings for him to stay away. Now he was facing a heat where zombies and worse could smell him. The very thought of it made his stomach tighten, made the _need_ take hold.

And that need was as easy to hate as it was to predict: the need for the comfort of an alpha.

Leon had never mated with an alpha, nor did he need to. He could do this, as he’d told himself several times before. He would figure out what was going on and make it through the night alive.

He wasn’t going to let some instinctual fever stop him.

…Which was very easy to think right before he stepped back into the dark and gore-splattered hallway. With his senses heightened he could smell the nauseous spread of blood, the rapid decay of bodies, and the unnatural scent of monsters. But above all that, one odor was more pungent than the rest. And it was all the more noticeable because it hadn’t been there upon his rush into the STARS office.

If it had, he would’ve stopped in his tracks, rooted to the spot. The only thing that prevented that now were those precious moments in which he’d fortified himself within the office.

If not for that, the smell—the sharp tang of alpha—might have all but incapacitated him.

Mutated, amplified, and ten times stronger because of Leon’s yearning, there was no mistaking the pheromones.

There was nothing back the way he’d come, or at least nothing rattling the door. The opposite direction was coated with blood sprays that shone sickly under his flashlight’s beam. Heading that way would lead him back to the library according to the map he’d picked up. Inside there was the choice between a staircase and ladder he could take up to put the detonator in place to get to the final medallion statue. But with whatever was emitting the overpowering scent coming from that direction, he had to wonder if it wouldn’t be better to go back through the locker rooms to ascend to the third floor the long way instead.

Keeping the light and gun trained on that wall, Leon trusted that instinct and backed up. He was slow about it, blowing an errant strand of wet hair out of his eyes as he carefully lifted his feet above the corpses and viscera to settle them back as softly as he could manage on the wood below. It didn’t seem like his effort meant much because, of course, the floor groaned beneath his weight.

He might’ve expected that, what with the building having the history it did. But none of that mattered now, so he sucked in a breath and held it. All the better to hear the resounding thuds belonging to whatever it was that he’d alerted. It sounded bigger than anything he’d seen yet, and suddenly the magnum weighing down his side felt very alluring.

He expected another monster, something twisted and deformed like the tongue things only much bigger. What he didn’t expect was something humanoid—something that from afar, at least, could be mistaken for a person. He wasn’t far enough for that and even though this thing was decked out in black leather from shoulder to toe—with a goddamn fedora to top it off—Leon stuttered backwards and away from it in alarm.

Recognition shot through him, mind recalling the computer he’d used in the main hall to look through one of the hallway cameras. At least, until this thing had broken it.

It went without saying that the monster was huge. Tall and massive, he must have stood over seven feet tall. Against all the black its white face was ghoulishly stark, skin warped and features frozen stern. Once he saw the cop its upper body lowered a bit so that he could lengthen and quicken his pace. His footsteps were so heavy and rattling that Leon swore he could feel the thud of them in his chest.

And with every step his scent wafted and grew.

“Jesus Christ!” Leon blurted, suddenly overcome by breathlessness.

Because he realized that something in the smell was _good_.

Fortunately, he was more scared of that revelation than he was intrigued, so he was able to pivot on his ankles and book it right back the way he’d come. The locker room door opened when he rammed his shoulder into it, swinging back on its hinges after he’d made it through. He had no faith that some piece of wood was going to slow that thing down, let alone stop its pursuit, though.

It was clearly different than the zombies, but how was that even possible? The ones he’d seen so far were just like the ones in movies and comics. The Lickers less so, but even in those corpses he could see _human_ bones… so were they some type of mutation? Would all the zombies turn into them eventually? Or could they turn into that giant? He couldn’t imagine that, not with how decayed and diminished their bodies and minds seemed to be versus the trench coat wearing colossus.

And there seemed to be another very distinct difference between them: the zombies wanted to bite chunks out of him and _eat_ them. This thing… there was no telling what it would do if it caught him, but he had a hunch it wouldn’t be pretty. Nor would he be able to get away from something that big and strong.

All of these thoughts were stunted and abstract, but they served to preoccupy him enough that he forgot that the zombies never seemed to stay dead like they were supposed to after a headshot. Rotted as they were, there seemed to be a resilience to them that proved both frightening and sudden.

It was the latter that got him.

One of the former officers, with a bullet hole still oozing in its head, lunged back to life at his legs just as he neared the stairs. His good reflexes sent him hurdling _over_ the once prone zombie. Unfortunately, it managed to get one gray arm up in his way to collide with his knee and send him sprawling down onto all fours. Because his first instinct had been to catch himself, his gun was sent spiraling across the landing a couple feet away.

He made for it, but the zombie had the closer target. The monster’s hands clawed and grabbed for any purchase they could on his legs, trying to drag him back within range. Leon kept trying to scramble forward. His goal was to reach out for the gun, but each time he tried the monster on him would gain an inch. So, he had to focus on balancing his weight so that he could shimmy and kick and _push_ without getting bit.

The zombie was snarling, bloody mouth gnashing and dead eyes locked on its target: Leon’s neck.

And of course, that distraction allowed the stomping to grow louder and louder.

The rookie fully expected one heavy boot to come crashing down on his skull, ending his struggle and giving the zombie an easy meal. He did _not_ expect the monster atop him to be yanked away and practically smashed to goo against the nearest wall. Leon got into a crouch and stared in shock at the display of strength.

It was only a microsecond, but it should have meant his death. The giant was staring down at him, hands clenched into fists again at its sides, big shoulders looming, but he didn’t attack.

He was too busy smelling the air for that.

Leon felt his disbelief transform and his heart leapt into his throat. “You’ve gotta be kidding me…”

When he snatched up his gun and sprung from his knees, the monster stepped after him. He was blocking the cop’s path upstairs, so he had to head down. He hopped down the stairs two at a time, grateful that through his adrenaline and muddled thoughts he kept his footing.

Again, the thing didn’t run, but it was a constant in his ears as he dodged through the hallway and into the west office. There was another zombie that woke once he ran behind it, but Leon was too quick for it to let out a snarl, let alone attack. And just before he exited out the door to the main hall, he heard its body splatter against something as well.

At the very least, Leon could use the trench coat Frankenstein to clear the things he couldn’t due to limited ammo. And so long as he stayed in front of him, he wouldn’t have to smell the pheromones again.

Which was easier said than done when all of the zombies he’d put down earlier were rising back up as if they knew exactly what his half-assed plan was. He had to duck around them again in the library, making it up the ladder just in time for one of their gnarled hands to skim the bottom of his shoe. It seemed like these things could mostly function when it came to stairs – though he had seen two trip on them – but ladders proved to be too complex.

He was glad that gave him some distance to run into the upper storage room and do what he needed. He did rush back out again, figuring it was best to be in a completely different room than the impending explosion. The moment it went off, the library door rattled open. Leon dropped to a knee, unable to see the behemoth duck down through the doorway. He wasn’t quite sure the monster could see him, either, but he did immediately take notice of the zombies congregated by the bottom of the ladder. That, combined with a very long and loud sniff of the air, brought its pounding feet towards the tiered metal.

Leon hopped up and slunk back into the storage room, making for the busted cell door. He had to watch his step over the corpses of those who would have been his coworkers. Foolishly, though he couldn’t help it, he apologized in his mind. He knew all he could do for them now was get out, armed with every last document he could find to try to get whatever justice he could against the person who had trapped them.

Even confused as he was, he wasn’t delusional enough to believe he could do much for them. Chances were whoever had condemned them had already met with a grisly fate.

Once he’d blown a path to it the medallion statue proved to be tougher to solve than the others because parts of it had long since rusted—not to mention the ominous scratching he could hear in the ceiling above him. Still, he matched up the images as best he could and after one wrong try the little secret door opened to award him with the final coin. The moment he pocketed it the door nearby slapped open. Leon hurried out of the corner he was backed into, positioning the pillar positioned in the middle of the room between him and the giant.

The big guy made the decision to circle around to Leon’s right, so the rookie lunged left. That had his pursuer stopping to make up for the distance. For several seconds they traded steps, like some kind of schoolyard game of tag or something. It felt as ridiculous as it most likely looked.

Leon’s only chance was to let the monster get as close as possible before using his speed to slip away back into the library.

The problem with that was the noise. The Licker that had been attracted first by the explosion used the sound of its prey’s pounding feet to pinpoint his position. Leon managed to duck back just in time to miss its initial slash as it landed heavily down between him and Frankenstein.

Just like the other creatures, the cop seemed to be its primary target, no matter how much louder the colossus behind it was.

“God dammit,” Leon breathed, reaching around for his shotgun though he’d never be able to aim it in time.

The Licker wasn’t able to prove him right, however, because the leather clad stalker behind it brought a crashing boot right down into its lower spine. The thing screeched in pain and twisted, scratching and clawing at the floor for the opportunity to do the same at the heavy weight immobilizing it. Leon didn’t stick around to watch the outcome this time, leaving them to the fight so that he could sprint through the clear path back into the library.

The zombies that had been following him were now slumped against the wall, heads mostly smashed in, so he was able to straddle the ladder and slide right down like he’d seen in movies. Luckily, he didn’t fall over like a fool. That gave him the precious seconds he needed to get back down to the main floor.

By the time the loud footsteps were following him again, he’d already opened the secret passage and disappeared inside.

His luck didn’t hold out. After fighting yet another monstrosity and finding out his way was blocked because he had never been issued a goddamn garage keycard, he figured out he’d have to run around the station yet again to find the parts he needed to obtain one. Pepper in his meeting of yet another alpha, the loss of yet another person he couldn’t save to the very thing that had been chasing him in the station, zombie _dogs_ , and he wasn’t sure how everything around him could get more convoluted.

At the _very_ least the new alpha he met was actually human and hadn’t seemed to care that he reeked of omega pheromones. She was someone he could work with—an FBI agent he could team up with to bring this whole disaster into the light. He just had to find them a way out of it first.

And to do that he’d had to find the two electrical parts to fix a cell’s mechanical lock.

He wasn’t as surprised by that as he was irked.

Everything he’d faced below had only managed to make him feel more stressed. To make him feel ever closer to breaking down.

He pushed on with the encouraging thought that he finally had another person he could help and that could help him in turn. He couldn’t and wouldn’t let Ada down. Not if they wanted to survive. Not if he wanted answers.

His foray back into the RPD was worryingly quiet. Well, in most hallways anyway. More Lickers had shown up, and he had to check places he hadn’t been able to before. But for a little while he hadn’t been terrified out of his mind by pounding footsteps. There was even a part of him that was growing hopeful that Trenchy had gotten lost in the lower regions of the station.

With how much hotter he was feeling under his uniform with every step, Leon would need that luck. Or at least a gargantuan lead.

Unfortunately, he _wasn’t_ lucky. The moment he’d stopped the fire in the second-floor eastern hallway with the intention of crawling passed the debris, his new friend decided to help out by lifting the melted helicopter with _one arm_.

Leon blanched at the sight and instinctively stumbled back. This drew the monster’s attention and its eyes fell on him. Then they widened, as if in recognition.

That startled the rookie enough to snap his gun up and fire.

It wasn’t a well-aimed shot, that much was clear when it went high, missing his target’s temple to sail harmlessly upwards, whisking the fedora from Trenchy’s head. There was a beat afterwards, as if the giant was registering what had just occurred. Its face didn’t show any emotion and it was too hard to smell its pheromones over the stench of smoke and melted metal. The annoyance became clear enough in its movements, notably when he lifted one fist to the side of his white jaw and pushed in to angle his skull enough for his neck to _crack_.

The loud pop brought Leon back to himself. He pivoted, his wet shoes squeaking against the floorboards as he doubled back out into the rain falling onto the roof. It had been falling for a while, but he was still able to get enough traction to put space between himself and his pursuer. Unfortunately, the zombies he’d thought he’d dispatched down below hadn’t gone down so easily. The two were snarling and stumbling up the stairs while the bigger threat simultaneously ducked through the doorway. With the ladder having broken under his weight and his adrenaline spiking, Leon backed towards the two shambling corpses. Somehow his mind recalled the Licker from before and he employed the same tactic, though it was conscious this time. Side-stepping and zipping around them, he ducked out of their reach while Trenchy closed the gap.

As before, the colossus slowed to deal with the obstruction. It gave the rookie the path he needed to race right through the door and keep his legs pumping. He didn’t want to risk anymore reanimated dead people down below in the east office, so he kept to the second-floor hall, at least until he came to a stairwell.

He’d obtained a new key, after all, and he’d have to open every lock he could to get out of this fantastical hell. He even spent _minutes_ in the unlocked interrogation room, which could be pivotal, until he heard the booming footsteps fade away.

He wasn’t fool enough to think he was safe, but his increasing stress heat and the clamoring of his heart trying to keep everything in control made him attempt to sprint straight to the main hall so that he could get to the door he’d seen in passing with a club lock. It wasn’t going to be easy, or safe, especially with what was chasing him. Doubly so because he knew he’d left at least one Licker in there… but now there was no telling how many might have cropped up.

Apparently, he was loud in his own right, because while he’d thought himself safe, separated as he was from Trenchy by thick walls, his follower proved himself different from the other monsters yet again. This time, it was another demonstration of his strength when he burst _through_ the wall to cut the human off.

Leon was a step ahead and though he had pieces of plaster bouncing off his shoulders, he slipped by while the giant was squeezing his way through the hole he’d made.

From there he moved forward in single-mindedness, not caring that the big man was behind him. He didn’t seem willing to move faster than a quick walk, so the cop sprinted right for where he needed to go, trusting in his speed.

It was a good gambit and he’d only needed to slow himself when he got to the west hallway. He’d been right in his guess that more Lickers had found their way into the station—or had _formed_ there during his absence. They followed him slowly down the hall, but he managed to unlock what he needed and collect all the useful items inside.

From there it was a blur—he had to use a flash grenade to escape the Lickers, go upstairs to plug in the jack handle he’d found so that he could plug in the giant cog he’d found to gather the final electrical piece he also needed to plug somewhere else.

He was cursing the idea of plugs as he made it to the east hallway. He’d used a grenade to clear the three zombies that had cropped up in his way earlier, but apparently even that wasn’t enough to permanently kill them unless he shoved the little bomb into a mouth or get lucky with flying shrapnel. A downed one snatched his ankle as he shuffled by, his pace having felt more sluggish with each step. He managed to catch himself before going down completely, but he was rapidly losing his balance when the hands on him refused to relinquish. He ended up falling against the nearest wall, pulling and struggling as heavy feet caught up to him. It was almost as if he could feel their quake in the foundations of the station itself.

Or that might have been the roar of his own blood.

Though it felt an eternity, he did manage to get his leg free. It sent him stumbling, but with a desperate crawl he was able to get out of the zombie’s reach. By the time he was back on his feet, however, two windows to his right were smashing, depositing more of the gray freaks onto the tiled floor. Leon just made it passed them by milliseconds, but with every step, with every rush of blood, with every pant of his breath, the warm fuzz around his senses grew.

He knew that he couldn’t run on and test his luck in the garage below. He had to hook left and all but fall through the doorway into the Night-Duty room. He slammed it shut behind him, but he could hear the ghouls groaning and snarling just on the other side, and even worse behind them.

He was in the process of prying the large storage box from the corner it had been lodged in and shoving it to block the door when the first wave of debilitating _need_ surged through his loins and gut. It sent him half sprawling out over the top of the container, his cheek pressed against the nominally cooler surface. He could feel the sweat and more moistening him, above at his brow and below.

Overcome with sudden yearning and horror, Leon gave a loud grunt—though perhaps it sounded awfully close to a cry—and shoved the heavy box with the last of his strength to secure the door. The moment it was in place his knees buckled, his strength sapped from him. He landed with one shoulder against it, huffing and desperately pawing the wet hair from his face so he could take in his surroundings.

He’d been in the room before, but he hadn’t catalogued it as he was now. But roving as his eyes were, he couldn’t find anything else to stack atop the box to give himself a better chance of holding out until his stress-induced heat ran its short, but powerful course. The lockers were too large and awkward, the table flimsy, and the fridge too heavy.

And sadly, if _he’d_ been able to push the box, though it had taken all his weight and remaining energy, he had no delusions that it would even slow Trenchy down. He’d probably just need to use his gigantic pinky finger to flick it out of his way.

He could hear by the stomping in the hall that he didn’t have much time to think. The sound of cracking skulls and sudden _splats_ made what panic he still had urge him up and into the back room. There were two bunkbeds there, one of which had sheets and a blanket dangling down from its edges.

With no more options, Leon pulled the shotgun from his shoulder and put his belly to the floor. The press felt annoyingly good, but he tried to think of _surviving_ rather than the lust now freely rampaging in his body.

When he pulled at it the blanket proved long enough to hang just an inch above the floor. This at least gave him a vantage point. He wasn’t sure it was a helpful thing when he heard the wooden door _snap_ right off its hinges, though. It must have been tossed aside to catch on a wall or even the staircase railing nearby, because then the container he’d struggled so much to move was pushed out from the door. It gave one rapid screech from where it ground against the floor.

Trenchy stepped in, and after a moment sniffed the air, loud and deep.

The item box groaned again and Leon tried to sidle all the closer to the wall, mystified at that. He was even more confused when he heard one of the _lockers_ being lifted and slammed down, presumably, atop the box.

Without an exit, stuck and growing sticky, and equal parts mesmerized and horrified by the strength he could hear coming for him, Leon was wholly unsurprised when a big hand wrapped around his ankle and pulled.

The rookie tried to grip onto something, but the bed was bolted to the floor which… was ridiculous. It also meant that before long his wrist and shoulder joint couldn’t hold out against the power dragging him like he weighed nothing at all.

So, when he was free and while he still could, he swung his other leg around so that he could flop onto his back and aim the shotgun. The giant had crouched down, one knee to the floor, so he could pull the cop out from his hiding space and because of their close proximity, the barrel of his weapon ended up pressed right against that massive chest. Right where its heart would be.

Leon’s eyes flicked from that spot upwards, gaping when he saw those white eyes—white everything—angled down towards him. He bit his lip as the huge alpha scented again, nostrils flaring, and when that leather creaked as the creature could lean closer, the rookie put his finger over the trigger.

But the giant’s scent hit him again before he could think to squeeze it.

The smell was as powerful as it was _wrong_. It was as if someone had tampered with it, and Leon couldn’t think of any other explanation for the monster hunched over him. He couldn’t think about much of anything, apparently, because there was the sound of leather tightening again and he could only look down, numbly and dumbly, to see thick fingers wrap around his weapon and yank it away.

Trenchy apparently had the mental capacity to set it on the floor behind them and push it away so quickly it clattered against the wall. Then he turned back and when the cop attempted to reach for the heavy magnum at his belt, he very simply fastened his palms to each of Leon’s biceps and pulled.

The pull changed once the colossus got his feet back under him, and the omega gasped as he was lifted from the floor, so high that his feet dangled uselessly beneath him. His mind reeled, his body trembled with exertion, and his gut tingled.

Disgusted with himself and his hormones, Leon tried to shimmy from the monster. Unfortunately, he’d forgotten that every movement was harder than the last, so it only took mere seconds for him to start panting. The problem with panting was that every inhale flooded his senses, his mind, his loins with the monster’s pheromones. Powerful, ample, overwhelming, _dominant_ pheromones.

And the alpha held him through this and _stared._

The moment Leon stilled, Trenchy lifted him close—too close—close enough that the searching movements of those narrowed pupils were discernable. Close enough that he could see the way his wrinkled nostrils flared. Close enough that he could almost discern the face of the man he must have been once.

Close enough to see that poking out from one of his temples was an… antenna?

Confused and tempted to reach for it, Leon was prevented from doing so as he was lowered back down to his feet. There were two options: make a run for it and hit a dead end that would literally be one… or try one of his sidearms. But if he’d been unable to take the shot before, he didn’t know what hope he had now. And that was without considering how this thing had mowed right through zombies and Lickers alike as if it had been nothing. What could bullets really do against it?

Admittedly, there was a third option… but even shivering and hot and needful as he was, he couldn’t let himself give into it without a fight.

He just couldn’t.

So, he snapped his elbow out, dislodging his arm so that he could snatch his pistol and swing it upwards.

Trenchy caught his wrist before he could aim at his forehead. His grip tightened so hard that Leon tightened in reaction, his trigger finger squeezing and firing a shot up into the ceiling above them. Though beyond his control, this still angered the giant, and he lifted the offending arm until it was well above the rookie’s head.

Then the monster growled, a low warning more guttural, more animalistic than Leon had ever heard from an alpha before.

And absurdly, his body slackened because of it. Shamefully, his body felt safe because of it. Horrifyingly, his body felt _want_ because of it.

The gun clattered to the floor, somewhere alongside the other and the vice-like grip on his wrist relented, though it did not release him completely. Instead the size of it seemed to intrigue the creature, if the way he seemed to be analyzing it against its leather-clad palm meant anything. Leon was a little stunned by the difference of their sizes, as well. He couldn’t imagine how big this man had been before. _Who_ he’d been before.

There was part of him that believed he could almost smell it. Beneath the unnatural parts, the pheromone of a strong, _human_ alpha was there. It was just so buried beneath the scents of leather and blood and something medical. Even so, even though he had to suck in as deep as he could to experience it, he knew it had been the _good_ he’d tasted earlier.

And then he started back, blinking his eyes rapidly as if resurfacing from underwater. In his stupor, he’d inched closer to try to distinguish between the various aspects of his pheromones and his nose was all but pressed against the black trench coat. Its owner caught him before he could get far, grappling the back of his neck to keep him still while those white eyes searched.

Leon didn’t know if the monster could control his facial expressions, but something in his eyes was confused. As if he didn’t know what the young human within his hands was anymore. As if he was just as shaken by the smells he was breathing in. As if he was reluctant.

The hand on his nape pulled, reeling him back in so that when Trenchy bent low their faces were inches away. The rookie tried to calm his breathing, stuttering as it was. The colossus seemed to watch the way his lips moved with it and then released his wrist so it could take hold of his jaw instead. Somehow, this touch was not painful—as if the big guy was purposefully trying to contain his strength now.

It wasn’t gentle, by any means, but Leon gasped in surprise rather than pain when his head was turned to the side so that his pursuer could stick his nose into his hair and inhale. It couldn’t have smelled that good, soaked with sweat as it was, but Trenchy kept him there while he breathed it in all the same. It couldn’t have been longer than a few moments, but had the head nuzzling him belonged to a human, he would’ve had the awareness to sense how surreal his administrations were.

Instead, the creature seemed to have realized something else through his exploration. It drew him down to Leon’s neck where he trailed his thumb away so that he could scent directly from the omega’s skin.

And for the first time of the night, the rookie didn’t fear in the way his head lolled to the side to expose himself.

He wished he could pretend it was only because he was too tired, too outmatched, and too trapped. He wished it was anything else but the presence of a dominant alpha, towering above him with persistent hands. He wished the idea of them throwing aside all the other monsters Leon had put between them just get to the cop wasn’t stimulating. He _knew_ it hadn’t been done to keep him safe. It had been done to keep up the chase.

It had been done because Trenchy had needed to be the one to catch him. And the reason for that had changed at the first sniff. Natural instinct had seen to that, overriding any deadly intent he’d originally had towards the human. It seemed to be driving them both now, and the big creature found that sniffing was no longer enough to satiate the lust it was experiencing.

The touch of his tongue was tentative, which would have seemed an odd word to use mere minutes before when he’d been a looming threat. But Leon wasn’t lucid enough to think that now. No, despite the exploration being anything but skillful, despite it being to taste rather than entice, the omega exposed himself to it.

And not for a moment could he even remember how careful he’d been in hiding his neck from all the teeth that had wanted a chunk of it that night.

At some point the lapping became more insistent, interspaced with frantic nuzzling. It was as if the monster couldn’t decide whether tasting or smelling the rookie was better. Leon found himself bracing against the bars behind him, body lax and growing more so under the incessant pushing. Although his anxiety had every reason to be spiking, to be all but crippling him, he could no longer feel its presence.

Not even with the hard, unnatural body against him.

Or was it that he couldn’t feel it because of the giant?

Every aspect of this should have been repugnant, but while he realized it was daunting, at least as much as his heated mind could recall, his body did not agree. The mixture of their scents and breaths had grown overwhelming, had permeated the entire room and Leon’s senses with it. And somehow the mixture, the dominance of the alpha’s pheromones, the way he was being tasted made him feel _safe_.

He knew this is what his body wanted, what his hormones wanted, what his instincts wanted. He knew it was what he _needed_ to overcome the stress heat.

But shouldn’t he try to fight it? Be disgusted instead of intrigued by how much humanity seemed to still exist in the twisted being?

The material of the giant’s jacket groaned as he moved, his hands coming forward to search the same way his tongue had. He’d pulled away ostensibly to watch—to see the pattern his gloves took as they followed every curve and angle of the officer’s body and all the gear strapped to it. When they stopped at his hips something seemed to click. They tightened.

And all Leon could think was: _possessive_.

And then his legs buckled because of it.

Trenchy didn’t seem to mind, or even really feel the extra weight slumped against him. Rather, it made touching easier for him, made searching and massaging his arms and shoulders and back and lower more accessible.

When the touch fell onto the curve of Leon’s ass, grabbing and testing the give of it, the omega moaned.

The behemoth must have liked that sound because he squeezed again and again and _again_ , eyes and ears narrowed in on the comparably small man’s reaction. The cop could hear the obscene sounds his slick was causing between his cheeks. The wetness had started unbidden earlier but now it was coaxed out more freely at the purposeful stimulant. Unintentionally, because he’d lost the ability to make anything intentional, the rookie’s legs spread.

The movement made it easier to scent his slick, diluted though it was by his pants and gear. Still, his pursuer was captivated by this, spreading the cheeks in his hands so he could catch more of the smell. It was immediately clear that it wasn’t enough.

Trenchy pushed him back and down, corralling him onto the lower mattress. He wasn’t gentle about it, nor was he with the way he yanked Leon’s shoes free of his feet. Nor with the way he struggled with his belt and buckles. Without intervention the giant would take to ripping the fabric.

At first the titan was hostile towards the officer’s shaking fingers. But once he realized that the belt was being undone, that there was no fight left in the body before him, he waited only long enough until he was able to strip the blue material and the boxers underneath right off the omega. Leon did make to cover himself though, embarrassed by how his hardness betrayed the excitement he didn’t want to acknowledge.

The creature was staring at the curve of his thighs, at the tremble in them, at the empty space between them. He filled it with his touch, the now-warm leather gliding over the pale muscles there. Once he got towards the knees, he curled his hands around them and lifted.

Leon sprawled back, spreading his arms against the bed for balance, eyes wide and chest heaving.

Trenchy eyed his uncovered nudity then, moving one palm down with the intention of touching him. The rookie stopped it, though, because as tantalizing as the leather felt, he wondered at the feel of the giant’s skin. If his hands were like his face.

If he was warm.

This time the creature didn’t get defensive, instead watching with what might have been curiosity as the human stripped both his hands of their coverings. They were not wrinkled like his face, but firm and callused. Leon wondered at that—wondered if the rest of his body would be covered by tight or wrinkled skin stretched over his obviously engorged muscles.

But the alpha did not let this exploratory moment linger. He hooked his gloveless hands over the rookie’s thighs and pulled, practically upending the pulsing body. Leon went with it, repositioning to find a comfortable way to balance his weight on his shoulders and off his neck and head while his lower half was hoisted upwards.

A big hand centered on his back, and it was oddly warm and supportive, bracing the awkward curve of his spine so that the other could touch his erection. The cop moaned immediately at the touch, squirming and gasping as the palm rolled over his length, over his balls, and then louder when the fingers followed, probing and jerking. It was when it slithered back, displacing the slick that was leaking so steadily from his opening that he wondered if he would hear it drip onto the sheets, that he keened.

And begged.

“ _Please_.”

It wasn’t clear if the giant could understand the plea. Every time Leon made a noise those white eyes would flick to his face, to his open mouth, but without a response, without hearing anything but the earlier growls, he doubted he’d ever get an answer to his unasked question. Regardless, the alpha drew close to its hand, skimming its fingertips together to watch the way the slick shimmered upon them.

Then he smelled them.

Then he tasted them.

Leon couldn’t help but buck at that, at the sight of his heat being so eagerly enjoyed. It wasn’t anything he’d seen before. And sure, he’d thought it was something he’d have one day, but not like this. Who could ever foresee something like this?

Who could _like_ it?

But he did, and he canted his hips when thick fingers began exploring between his cheeks, tracing his slick back to his opening. Now that the titan saw the source of the omega’s excitement he wanted to be closer. With their extreme size difference he had to drop his knees to the side of the mattress—and now it was a good thing that the metal was bolted to the floor—so that he could heave the cop up to where he could reach.

Leon found himself drawn up, shoulders, neck, and head against gargantuan thighs and knees. His back was flush against the front of the alpha’s coat and chest and his legs were spread, angled at the knees so he could rest them against the metal bars of the upper bed.

And that meant his opening was exposed, twitching and leaking, right before the white lips.

Trenchy set upon it, licking up a bead of his moisture before slathering the tip around his hole. He seemed to follow the circle of it, the tip of his tongue moving counterclockwise and slow, as if mapping every fold. Then the lapping began, sloppy and wet and uncaring for anything but catching every last squirt. It was an effort now, for how eager the omega was getting, for how eager his body to be filled and calmed. He could feel the pleasure spiking throughout his hips and lower stomach, could feel the way his slick practically gushed out onto that chaotic tongue because of it.

He found one of his hands against the monster’s thighs, nails digging into the leather as if that could ground him against the taboo bliss radiating from every one of his nerves, mounting at the mere thought of being explored and tasted and relished let alone the feel of it.

He could see the enthusiastic flush of his cockhead from where it stared down at him and he could feel the angry curve of the giant’s from where it was grazing his back. He could only feel it in passing movements and, needing to know for sure if he could take it, slid his hand upward to cup where Trenchy was held back by sturdy leather.

Well, to cup what he could. Deliriously, he ran his hand over the girth. It was proportionate to the rest of the monster, but that wasn’t to say he was daunted by the size. He was fascinated with it.

The licking stopped and something deep and rumbly issued forth from the alpha’s chest. Leon could feel it vibrate all the way down to the dick his was freeing from its confines.

From there the giant recalled exactly what to do. He wasn’t rough, but perfunctory in the way he positioned the rookie onto the bed so that his lower half hung off the edge. And then, without any hesitation, the creature was pushing his cock up against Leon’s ass, thrusting and rubbing as fast as a piston through the slick pooled between his crack and thighs. He was so wet that the big guy was moving without any resistance which meant that the officer wasn’t feeling enough of that skin, save for the slight protrusion of veins teasing his sputtering pucker.

After several moments, during which it was clear that the fat dick had been properly lubricated, Leon reached out from where he’d been holding his legs to take the alpha’s length in hand and guide the bulbous head to his opening. Trenchy was watching intently, pushing at the urging and then even more when he, presumably, felt how hot and welcoming the omega was for him. Leon’s ass seemed to be the only thing on him that wasn’t tense. Rather, it was greedy and ready, sucking the huge penis inside of him like it had been waiting his whole life for it.

“Slow,” he still managed to gag, putting one of his socked feet against the monster’s chest.

And miraculously, the alpha listened.

Well, until he eventually bottomed out.

From there the sucking pressure was too intoxicating for Trenchy to ignore. He took each of the human’s calves in either hand for leverage and, with his knees on the tiled floor, began humping into the omega in earnest. Leon cried out, trying to anchor himself in the sheets but the uncoordinated, almost barbaric thrusts were dragging him from them. He felt as though he could only stare up as he was ridden back and forth, overcome with pleasure as he was used.

Soon enough the behemoth realized what felt the best, what pattern and how much force intensified his pleasure. He adapted to it, snapping his hips so he could sink his cock in to its fullest extent each time. And when he pulled back it felt as though there was a moment of hesitance, as if the alpha inside him knew that being buried there was where he belonged.

Like how the omega in him was telling Leon the same thing.

The cock molding his insides was bigger than any human’s could ever be. It was stretching him to his fullest, filling him up and subsequently grinding against every curve of his inner walls, including the one that housed his prostate. There was one particularly large vein, through which the cop could feel his pursuer’s _heartbeat_ , that skimmed the sensitive bundle the most perfect way every time a thrust sank home.

Every thud of blood made the omega keen, made him restless, made him feral. He tried to spread his legs, tried to roll his hips, tried to prolong his ravishing although he knew every moment spent here, locked in ecstasy he didn’t want to end, diminished his chance of survival. His brain knew that, certainly, but his heat was such a sweet thing to listen to. To trust when it promised him safety simply by inhaling in the giant’s pheromones.

He came with that word in his mind: _safe_. With it just behind his lips.

Even with the sight of a monster fucking into him. _Because_ of the sight. With the sight of his body shaking and his cum arching. With the sight of those white eyes capturing, _devouring_ every moment.

His alpha was pleased with it. He could smell it in the air. Taste it on his lolling tongue.

The fucking was faster after that, driven and energized as if the sight of the small man’s pleasure gave Trenchy some as well. Leon wasn’t sure how that was possible except that whatever had changed this creature from who he’d been before, it hadn’t been enough to change his nature. To deny his instincts.

Those drove him to ram into the omega, to chase carnality and sensation and need until his dick was growing bulbous and sticking fast within the supple, willing flesh. Until his knot was snagging firm, tugging at Leon’s hole until Trenchy realized he couldn’t pull out without damaging him. That sent him to bury it deeper, to embed himself and his seed as far as he could. To douse the omega’s insides with cum and weigh him down to make it stick.

The cock within him had already made him full, had tested his limits to the most delicious degree. But now, _now_ the knot stretched him to a point of wonder. Leon didn’t know the limits of a horny omega, but apparently his had raised in the face of this non-human alpha. His pulse was all the more noticeable in the swollen bulb, especially when it was ground against his inner walls to wring more spend out of the colossus.

And its rhythmic beating and oppressive rubbing over the rookie’s already overstimulated prostate proved too stimulating. Leon hadn’t gone soft, but his orgasm had brought back some of his clarity. For the briefest of moments, he felt hope that that could mean the return of his lucidity and wits.

But all his mental voice did was to encourage the undulations of his hips as he ground down against the pressure on his prostate. _Yes, yes,_ it whispered until he was chanting it aloud. Until he was bouncing and rolling and writhing as a second, strung out, almost painful orgasm dribbled out from him.

His hands had caught in what he could reach of the leather trench coat, curling and pulling with no true intent. Still, the alpha curled over him, shoving his nose back into the joining of neck and shoulder. Leon figured he wanted the enthralling scent of omega to heighten the sensation of his prolonged orgasm, but rather than cool air snuffling against his skin he felt the hard puncture of teeth instead.

Trenchy didn’t bite hard enough to rip at him. He barely bit hard enough to hurt him. But it _was_ hard enough to mark him.

Leon moaned pitifully, trembling under the crescendo of calm and understanding that washed over him from head to toe.

The ramifications were too daunting and surreal to consider at the moment, even with his fever cooling. For now, it was easier to submit to his exhaustion, to flop back against the bed when he was released and stare upwards. To let himself stew in his confusion as the alpha’s fingers traced over the dark marks left in his mouth’s wake.

When Trenchy realized blue eyes were tracking his every move he reached out to touch at the corner of one. From there he went upward, tickling an eyebrow and then moving sweat-drenched strands away from the omega’s forehead so he could settle his palm there. It was huge, could easily crush his skull if its owner wanted, but it just weighed the officer down the same way a cool rag might during an illness.

Leon peered up at him, eyes drooping no matter how surprised and unsettled he was now that the hormones had been driven from them both.

The giant hunched over him, wrinkled face just inches away, hovering above his collarbone. Yet again he sniffed, head tilted as it seemed to chase whatever scent it wanted in the sex tinged air around them. When he seemed to have caught it, Trenchy returned to staring. Inches from Leon’s face. From his mouth.

“…What’re you doing?” the omega whispered, petrified though he felt.

Of course, his alpha didn’t answer. Leon was spared from receiving a physical one as well when the knot within him receded enough for the creature to slip free. White eyes looked down at that and the rookie took the opportunity to curl onto his side, drawing his legs up to both steady himself and catch a glimpse of his discarded firearms.

His mate put his hand to his outer thigh, but Leon didn’t look back at it nor what was being scrutinized. He didn’t need to when he felt it so acutely—the way the cum was seeping out of him and the way two thick fingers caught it and shoved it back up inside him where it belonged.

The cop might have clenched to hold it in place had he not been so close to the cusp of sleep, though that nagging voice in his head screamed against the way his eyes slipped shut. And even though big hands were petting over him, heavy and pushy, the omega in him repeated _sleep_ and _safe_ until he believed it and drifted off.

When he woke, he knew he hadn’t been out long, not with how wet he still felt. Wet and warm. The warmth wasn’t his own this time, however, rather it was because one of the discarded blankets had been pulled over his nudity. Besides that, the only other noticeable change in the room was the lack of a giant, leather-wrapped body taking up most of it.

Leon hoisted himself up onto an elbow, holding his breath to hear whether or not the alpha was nearby either through his breathing or his ever-loud footsteps. While he waited his eyes fell upon his guns and his discarded shoes and pants. When everything remained silent—or as silent as things could be with the distant moan of zombies from every direction in this forsaken city—the rookie gingerly got to his feet.

Although the mix of fluids inside him practically flushed down his inner thighs as gravity took over, he still peeked around the door to scope out the other half of the Night-Duty room. It too was mostly unchanged, save that his barricade had been reconstructed from the inside out. Once again the alpha apparently hadn’t had any problems lifting two lockers _and_ the storage container to block off the entrance.

Had he done it to keep the cop in place or to protect him? Could it have been both?

Luckily for Leon the monster hadn’t been too methodical in its construction. Though no zombie would have had the mechanical awareness to fit itself through the small openings atop the structure, the omega, now calm, now armed once again with his wits, now tinged with shame and wanting to put as much space between him and this room as possible, knew they would be his path to freedom.

There was a sink back in the sleeping quarters that he used quickly, above and below so that he wouldn’t be soaking his pants nor attracting anything more than hungry zombies in his struggle to escape. Then, as clean as he could get, he redressed and rearmed himself, handgun at the ready and pack filled with the electrical parts he needed to get the hell out of the station.

Before he squeezed through the gap, he popped a mixture of herbs into his mouth, swallowing the powder down in the hopes that it would ease the ache in his ass. He didn’t need the constant reminder of his blissful shame every step of the way forward. Not when he had to contend with the bite staining his neck.

And yet, still, as he galloped down the stairs back into the RPD’s basement, he couldn’t ignore the burn of his mark and how each step away felt an awful lot like betrayal.


End file.
